It is mid afternoon and the sun is out from behind the clouds. Business is bustling at various food stalls and carts selling sundries. There is a bit of a line in front of the place that sells Essoi style fish stew and things on flat bread. Tybalt slinks through the crowd, his demeanor and typical hygiene level winning him a bit of elbow room. He is just now eying the gobbets of probably fried lizard lion on a stick for sale.

Camillo sticks close to Tybalt, while looking curiously over the food on offer. "What do you want most to eat?" he asks. "I've never eaten lizard lion. I wonder if something quite so ugly can be good…" Quite a lot of people of various classes and professions are milling through the square enjoying the festival atmosphere and the entertainers who pass here and there busking.

Tybalt flashes him a grin over his shoulder, wide enough to show missing teeth on the scar side, "It's good eating if you fry it right. Sometimes they dip it in sauce. Want to taste?" The Northerner is in a good mood, it seems, the shells and beads clacking softly as he turns his head.

"Yes," Camillo agrees, smiling a little at Tybalt's buoyant mood. He approaches that stall to order a skewer. "We can share and get other things besides," he suggests. Among the passing crowd is a plump young blonde woman with warm, brown eyes, pressing her hands together as she gossips with her lady in waiting, it appears.

"Why is there all the funny shaped bread? Was there a mistake at the bakery?" His voice drops, "We should try all sorts of things. There must be twice as many food stalls as normal.""

"It's for the dolphins," Camillo says, as though surprised that Tybalt is not aware of that. "They're very good, we should get one." he pays for the skewer that they've taken, looks to Tybalt, then takes the liberty of having the first bite with a 'by your leave' sort of nod. Meanwhile, the plump noblewoman gives a loud giggle, drawing Camillo's gaze.

Tybalt gives him a blank look that suggests he really doesn't know. He nods yes to the dolphin bread and again to agree Camillo should have the first bite, "I suppose t makes sens this being a port and dolphins being a friend to sailors. He is watching Camillo's face to see if he like the meat, and so his gaze shifts to try to see what Camillo is looking at.

Camillo cranes his neck a little to watch the noblewoman. Then he comes to himself and looks over to Tybalt. "It's good meat," he says, and he does sound pleased even if he's been a bit distracted. He offers the skewer in Tybalt's direction, then lowers his voice a little. "That is Elaine Fossoway," he says. "I've waited on her."

Tybalt leans in for his bite, "I will maybe make you some next I kill one." Presumably in reference to lizard lions and not Fosseways, but one never can quite be sure with Tybalt. "What's she like?"

"Lively," Camillo says. "With a love of gossip but not such genius for getting it that she is very dangerous." He grazes Tybalt's arm with his arm, moving for a dolphin bread stand. "The Fossoways came down the road this morning."

Tybalt is guided by the lightest of touches, "What were they like to serve? Just generally? I mean, compared to them up at the Tower?"

Camillo makes a quiet grunting sound. "Very complicated," he says. "Some of the are nice and some of them aren't. But I had a different position, then, as a personal servant…" He orders a dolphin bread, handing that to Tybalt so that he may have the first bite of an unfamiliar food. "And things weren't as settled in that house as they are in the Hightower."

Tybalt studies the bread a bit suspiciously, giving it a good sniff, but liking the wholesome yeasty smell gives it a gnaw with the good side of his mouth. "so smoother here where you are in charge and less…" e decides there is no safe way to reference the occationally deadly Fosaway family drama here in a crowd. "Think she'd recognise you with your hair like that?" His tone suggests approval of the lengthening hair on his companion's head.

"No, she didn't live in that house," Camillo replies. "She's seen me only a few times, and she's seen me here before and gave no sign of—" He cuts off as a larger man, built broadly across the shoulders, approaches this Lady Elaine to speak to her. Camillo takes three lines to get out of that man's line of sight, expecting Tybalt to follow.

Tybalt is quick thinking when it comes to safety and Camillo being recognized being on his mind, he straightens and spreads his shoulders to look like a dock tough, but also to block an extra bit of line of sight and trails quickly after the Southron, doing his best to always be positioned between the big stranger and the Hightower servant.

Camillo moves a little further behind a stall with Tybalt's protection, then looks back to him. "That is his brother," he says softly. "Lord Haemon. And he…would know me."

Tybalt takes up position their, gnawing his bread slowly and casually watching people go by. His eyes occasionally pass over Lord Haemon, but don't linger. His voice is pitched not to carry, "Is that the one you mentioned the night of the game pie?"

Camillo's eyes scan the air in front of him. "I don't remember what I said," he admits, looking to Tybalt. Apparently he keeps less track of what he says to Tybalt than what he says to others. "But I did him a bad turn…"

Tybalt turns his head to let Camillo see the undamaged side of his smile, "Lizard Lions and things I would help with if you wanted." His tone suggests bad turn or not, camillo is clearly always in the right as far as Tybalt is concerned.

Tybalt nods and keeps his subtle look out. "That is the problem with nobles. there are so many and it is hard to tell them all apart."

"I think the other one isn't properly noble," Camillo says. "I haven't met him yet. But that one… He's the head now of the house where I used to serve. Lord Istor's father has died."

Tybalt takes all that in, carefully untangling the relationships in his head. "That would likely cause uproar…. So we are… looking for a man you haven't met? What did he do?" His tone is mild and curious, the question of the whys not being nearly as pressing as the if followed by the how.

"Nothing, yet," Camillo replies. "But he's been asking…dangerous questions. And if he is indeed here…it might be because he wants to start causing real trouble."

Tybalt nods and passes the remaining half of the dolphin behind him, "And it might be we need to head off the trouble." his tone remains mild, his expression untroubled.

"It's not just trouble for me," Camillo says, leading them on a walk around the perimeter of the stalls. He chews on the dolphin bread. "But I can't be sure yet."

Tybalt bares his teeth threateningly at a child cut purse, playing up the dangerous Northern barbarian look. The child scampers off. "I'll help if it come to it. you know that. If you can't tell me all the Whys, I trust you to decide for us both."

Camillo nods once, certain in Tybalt's dependability. "I'll tell you if something needs to be done." He looks thoughtful. "I will tell you the reason for my own self, but where other people are involved…that I cannot say."

Tybalt flashes him a quick grin. "That's fair. you still hungry or out we get something to wash it down with?"

Camillo's eyes crinkle at the corners a bit in response to Tybalt's grin. "We can get one more bit of food and then something to drink," he decides. "I…quite like food at a festival."

Tybalt touches his arm lightly, "Let's see if we can find something neither of us have eaten before."